Culture and Chaos, The City of São Paulo

Where to start with São Paulo? We spent three days in the city and I think I changed my opinion on it at least thirteen times but with a place this big, it's really no surprise! 

My immediate impression wasn't the best as for the first time since landing in South America, I didn't feel particularly safe. Though police can be found on every corner, they seem to incite more fear than comfort and on multiple occasions we witnessed them pass by a potentially dangerous situation without stepping in. 

Currently, the city is in a worse state than ever as the people are rioting against hosting the upcoming World Cup. It seemed strange at first that they'd be protesting when so many others would consider it a privilege but having seen the country and spoken to the locals, it's perfectly understandable why they feel that the money should be allocated elsewhere.

The city itself is simply bursting at the seams with over twenty million Brazilians calling it home. However, a heartbreakingly high proportion of this population have no actual home, instead living out on the streets and settling for any sort of surface to lay their heads. The poverty here is blatant and hectic, with swarms of people trying desperately to sell anything they can get there hands on, from socks, to massage toys, to stolen bottles of water. The noise whilst everyone competes to be heard is incredible, and street vendors will literally grab you by the arm to grab your attention. In a way, this chaotic frenzy creates a carnivalesque feel, even if there's seemingly not much to celebrate. 

In the poorest parts, the town is physically crumbling down and there's an overpowering stench of sewage carried in the air. That said, once our senses adjusted, we came to like even the of grimiest of areas. Though the streets were in utter turmoil, it was liberating to lose ourselves among it and in those mad moments, we couldn't help but feel a fondness for those who embrace it every day whilst appreciating our own lives for what they were. 

Shortly after accepting São Paulo to be this crazy place, we stumbled across a much quieter part of the city. We were pleasantly surprised to find some beautiful neighborhoods with both quaint little buildings and modern architecture. We dedicated one whole day to exploring the Art of the city, heading first to the MASP Museum on Paulista Avenue. The exhibition showcased the works of some of the world's best painters, including Monet, Picasso and Matisse, amongst other lesser known but no less impressive Latin American artists.

Later, we swapped the classic for the quirky, seeking out São Paulo's best and most outrageous street art. The Vila Madelena area is particularly interesting with almost as many walls covered in brightly coloured paints as left plain. We visited the famous road, nicknamed Beco do Batman, which was nothing more than a small alleyway before artists re-designed it to be a street art masterpiece, with murals on either side from one end to the next.

On our final day in São Paulo, we climbed the Banespa building for a three hundred and sixty degree view of the city from over a hundred metres high. Of course, we already knew it was big but this view really brought it to life. From our position on the small platform of the Altino Arantes, it felt as though we were staring down into the canopy of a ginormous concrete jungle which stretched further than any of our eyes could see.

Our feelings about São Paulo were therefore mixed but whether we'd liked the city or not, we'd have always had a brilliant time there because of the hostel we stayed in and the people we met. The owner, Erik, was an ex-professional football player turned hip hop artist who raps in a Brazilian punk band and plays the trombone. He also makes an insanely good breakfast and just as we were starting to think he was the coolest guy we'd ever met, we came across David - a doctor from Porto Alegre who is also a qualified hairdresser and make-up artist, as well as an unbelievably good cook. Sadly he was travelling Brazil with his husband (as well as another friend) otherwise I think we'd have snapped him up straight away! Anyway, he completely spoilt us, setting up a hair salon in the front room and treating the whole hostel to an incredible homemade pizza party, complete with caipiroska cocktails and sparkling wine. 

The final member of this little crew was Claudio, another absolute gem of a human being and another bloody brilliant chef. Primarily though he's a philosopher, and he spent his days finishing off his latest book as well as every bottle of wine in sight. Interestingly, his English improved considerably after a glass or five of his special 'Spanish water' so I only hope it has the same effect on his writing. 

There's no doubt that parts of São Paulo are unsafe but for every bad Brazilian, there are hundreds of others like Erik, Claudio, David and co. who will do anything and everything to look out for you and ensure you love their country. And if you're lucky, they'll feed you amazing food whilst they're at it too! 

A Stop Off in Florianopolis

Ever since leaving England I've been buzzing to get to Brazil, enticed by the promise of bustling beaches and a carnivalesque spirit. Our first stop, Florianopolis, didn't disappoint.

This small island is not only encircled by the beautiful blue water of the South Atlantic, it also has three stunning lakes enclosed within it. Two of these sit side by side and the town in which we stayed is built where they meet, making for some pretty picturesque scenery. 

We were spoilt for choice in terms of beaches to visit but my favourite by far was Lagoinha do Leste. Though it's well known as the most beautiful beach on the island, it still feels kind of secret because there's no road leading up to it, meaning it's only accessible by foot. To reach it, you must trek uphill for an hour through jungly terrain and then climb down the rocks for a further half hour. I suppose some people may not consider this journey worthwhile as there are so many other beaches within easier grasp, but then these people presumably have never seen it! It was absolutely worth ever step. 

Having taken a picnic along with us, we had the added reward of lunch after our difficult climb. Though the sun was shining, it was rather gusty and so we ended up eating as much sand as actual food. Only after we'd finished did we discover the small lake behind the bank, completely protected from the wind. 

Florianopolis is a truly beautiful place which is bursting with art and culture and it has been a great start to our time in Brazil. Next we're heading to Sao Paolo, the biggest city in Latin America, and I imagine the complete opposite of this tiny island!

 

Punta del Este & Punta del Diablo

Punta del Este had been described to us as the Ibiza of South America. However, just like Ibiza, it leads a double life, coming alive in the heat of the summer but hibernating in the winter once the temperatures drop and the tourists disappear. Our visit coincided with the Autumn months and so although we found all the signs of a great city, there was literally nobody around to enjoy it. Every other shop was shut and the majority of hotels were closed for refurbishments. 

Thankfully, we were largely distracted from this deserted ghost town by the beautiful beaches along either side of the peninsular. With the sun shining down on us at twenty degrees, had we been at home we'd have called it bikini weather. However, we've come to realise that we've completely climatised and braved the beaches only after throwing on every layer of clothing we could find. Nevertheless, we enjoyed our picnic days and our first views of the Uruguayan seaside. 

Keen to return to some kind of civilisation though, we quickly moved on up the coast to Punta del Diablo. Ironically, this area was even quieter than the last but it's only built to accommodate a tiny community so it felt far less desolate. The small town centre is situated along the main road (which also happens be the only road) and consists of one convenience store, a bus stop and an ATM which stocks cash for just two months of the year. On one side is the beach with beautifully soft white sand and rough waves, whilst on the other side is acres and acres of endless green space. 

The locals have built their homes amidst the fields, seemingly wherever and however they fancy. Mismatched and higgledy-piggledy, these buildings vary from small shacks to pristine villas; some built with old bricks, others with thatched roofs and all coated in a brightly coloured paint which clashes with its neighbour's. The whole area looks as though it's been designed by a child but it certainly gives the place some character. 

One afternoon we caught a bus out to the Santa Theresa National Park, just a few kilometres away. It's absolutely massive and took us over four hours to complete the entire loop. Along our way we encountered all kinds of animals including peacocks, deer, monkeys and some sort of pig which none of us could name. The only other human we saw was a Spanish lady near the fortress who spoke no English and so asking her for directions very nearly got us lost. Luckily, we made it back to the bus stop just before sunset. We didn't fancy roaming around in the wild after dark. 

Our last three hours in Uruguay were spent abandoned on the side of the road at the Brazilian border whilst we waited for a bus which didn't show up until midnight. It was slightly surreal but having just spent ten days in Uruguay, I really wouldn't have expected it to be any other way. We kept ourselves busy, setting an American off on a rant about politics and playing leapfrog until it was time to leave. There are a bits I've loved and bits I could have missed but I'm so glad we experienced this strange little country. 

The Capital of Uruguay

...is Montevideo. I really hope that comes up as a trivia question one day.

However, aside from potentially winning me a pub quiz or two later down the line, Montevideo didn't offer a whole lot else.

With its historical buildings and coastline nearby, the Uruguayan capital is no doubt a beautiful city but unless you're immersed in the buzz of city life, it leaves you with very little to do.

One morning we walked a little way out of the centre in search of the Mercado Agricolo which we believed to be a traditional market. However, when we arrived it was more like an indoor shopping centre and not exactly to our taste. Our experience was practically mirrored the following day when we trekked for almost an hour to find Mercado del Puerto. This time, we found a cluster of restaurants in what appeared to be an old station, all selling barbecued sausages, ribs and steak. They looked delicious but were rather pricey so we settled instead for empanadas. I say settled, but these pastry meat pies are bloody amazing - probably one of my favourite things about South America so far! 

Anyway, after a second unsuccessful market trip we admitted defeat and followed the rambla all the way back to book our bus for the next destination! 

Uncovering the Unknown, Uruguay

I never thought I'd find myself in Uruguay but we had three good reasons for coming here. 

1. It was only an hour's ferry ride from where we were in Buenos Aires.

2. We had some time to fill between our last visitor leaving Argentina and our next visitors meeting us in Brazil.

3. Why on earth not? 

Welcome to the freedom of travelling. The fact that we had no previous plans to come to Uruguay, nor that we knew next to nothing about the country, didn't stop us from jumping on the boat and sailing across. Though it's great to visit popular places (for after all, there's a reason why they became popular) travelling is all about exploring the unknown and finding those hidden gems which few others have yet discovered. 

I believe that Colonia del Sacramento, where the ferry docked, is one of those gems. It's an old colonial town, one of the oldest in Uruguay, and was once occupied by the Portuguese. However, the Spanish continually contested the sovereignty of Colonia and so it changed hands multiple times over the years. Everyone wanted a piece of this town and it's easy to understand why. Not only is it absolutely beautiful but with a positioning so convenient for hopping over to Argentina, it became the perfect port for the smuggling trade.

Nowadays it remains a popular town amongst South Americans but as we're coming into Autumn in Uruguay, it was almost completely deserted. We filled our time wandering through the cobbled streets, kicking up the golden leaves in our pathway and marvelling at the quaint, crumbling, ivy-covered buildings. One afternoon we visited the most photographed street in Uruguay but discovered that it was in fact no more beautiful than every other road in Colonia. They really are all stunning. 

After a couple of days relaxing in this port town we plan to make our way up the coast. Next stop, the capital! 

Buenos Aires & Back Again

The trouble is that when something's been hyped up as much as Buenos Aires was, it leaves a lot of room for disappointment. Sadly during our first trip to the Argentinian capital, disappointment is exactly what we found. 

Though the city is indeed as beautiful as it is bustling, nothing about it particularly wowed me. We'd been told there'd be plenty to keep us entertained but we roamed the streets of Soho, passing very little of interest. 

That evening, as music blared from the hostel bar and crowds of people started drinking at midnight, it became quite apparent why Buenos Aires has made such a name for itself amongst backpackers. The drunken masses set out at an hour we'd usually get in and stumbled back just in time for breakfast. 

The following evening we joined them but despite it being an undeniably good night, it still wasn't enough to win me over. Once we were inside the club we could have been anywhere in the world and I'm looking for a little more from my travels than just going around and getting drunk in different places. I know, grandma alert. 

Anyway, as the city's schoolboy tactics didn't do the trick, we returned to Buenos Aires after our trip to Iguazu Falls with far lower expectations. And this time, absolutely loved it! 

Whereas previously we'd stayed in the centre, our second stint was spent in Palermo, a quieter but quirkier part of town. We were quickly taken in by the charm of the place with its cute little cafés and sweet-smelling bakeries. Though the boutique style shops were rather expensive, the main square hosted a daily market which was always buzzing with locals seeking out a bargain.

One afternoon we took advantage of the sunshine and walked all the way to the Recoleta region to visit the world's most elaborate cemetery. Only the wealthy can afford to be buried here and lie in tombs as large as my house! They're organised into blocks which mirror the layout of the city, creating an eerie village vibe. 

On the Saturday we celebrated Fareed's birthday and bought tickets to the Fuerzabruta show to make it special. This hour long experience is both eccentric and orgasmic (think Cirque du Soleil on drugs) and is by far the weirdest, most wonderful show I've ever seen. I'd love to go into more detail but the mastermind behind it all urges the audience to keep the secret and not ruin the surprises. I'm not sure my words could do it justice anyway but what I will say is that if media doesn't work out, I'll be joining the circus! 

Smiling and inspired, we then stopped off at a burger joint (called Burger Joint) in Palermo on the way home. This quirky little place with its graffitied walls and cardboard cut out menus has been ranked number four in The Huffington Post's list of top burger bars in the world. I get why. 

Finally it was time for some celebratory drinks. We started on the bubbly, then moved onto wine and around the time the vodka was cracked open, Godfrey had come out to play. We'd also bought a special liqueur, flavoured with Argentina's favourite sweet but it was less than enjoyable to drink (even before Fareed pointed out it was the colour of katsu curry) and is likely to have played a big part in our hangovers the next morning. Death by Dulce de Leche...

Fareed's birthday night was also his last in South America so we woke up feeling pretty sad. Before he left, we shared an amazing last supper at a crepe and waffle café in the hope that a mountain of Nutella might help. However, though the food was epic, it still didn't mask the emotional goodbyes. We've loved our little South American foursome and will really miss him now he's gone.

Though it wasn't a case of love at first sight, the city certainly wooed us in the end. Luckily we'll be returning again for a third time and if it weren't for the fact that it will be our very last stop on this round the world trip, I think I'd already be looking forward to it!

Falling for Iguazu Falls

Reflecting back upon our experience at Iguazu Falls is like reliving a rather elaborate dream. The scenes imprinted within my memory are all so vivid and yet they seem to belong to another world, too mesmerising to be a part of this reality...

*

The park is almost empty when we arrive and eerily quiet. Following the silence, we pass the visitor's centre and take the green trail through the jungle. Whilst we'd expected to find floods of tourists, we're instead met by a family of coatis, meandering their way across our path. At first glance, these strange racoon-like animals look adorable with their aardvark's snout and bushy tails, which do well to distract the unknowing human from their sharp teeth and menacing claws. We rush past them quickly, taking note but simultaneously trying to ignore the numerous signs warning us of crocodiles, snakes and tarantulas along our way.

On the upper trail we catch our first sight of the waterfalls. Everything about them feels infinite; not only the sheer number of falls, but the endless streams of water appearing from behind the horizon; the constant ripples tipping over the edge, sacrificing themselves to the greater good; the continual crashing of curling water colliding into chaos; and the long lasting echoes booming from cliff to cliff. Breathtaking is an understatement. 

The scene surrounding the falls is no less ethereal. Where the sunlight catches the spray, the white water acts as a blank canvas for the colourful rainbows which appear overhead. Higher still, eagles soar, gliding effortlessly as though humouring those pretty butterflies beneath them, flapping their wings so excitedly; their wings, which are so exotic in colour it seems they can only have been born from the rainbows below. I couldn't have imagined something so beautiful. 

Tearing ourselves away from the viewing terrace we board a small train which takes us up the mountain side. We're now level with the top of the falls but a wide river separates us from them. Though the wind carries with it the faint whispers of crashing water, this is the only telltale sign of the fall's existence. The river water is so still and serene that it's hard to believe what awaits us on the other side. 

More butterflies lead the way as we take the route along the wooden bridge. Though expertly camouflaged, we can just about make out a baby crocodile basking in the sunshine on the rocks to our left. A little further on we find a turtle to our right, marooned on an island no bigger than its shell. A heron spreads its wings to pose for our photographs whilst flashes of colour between rustling leaves expose the hiding place of a toucan's nest. Seriously, what dream is this? 

We're approaching the edge now and what had previously looked like an inviting infinity pool at a luxury hotel resort, now reveals itself as a death defying drop. For ages we do nothing but stare in awe at the power of these falls. The spray rises so high above the water that it obscures our view of the valley beyond. It's as though we're standing at the very edge of the world, gazing out as it fades into nothingness.  

Finally we embark on the lower trail, the third and final one of the day. The park's trails have been cleverly built so that we can view the falls from various different distances and heights. We find they look incredible from every angle and no matter how hard I try telling myself that it's only water, I remain completely mesmerised.

* 

Though I've done my best to describe Iguazu Falls, it's a wonder that needs to be seen to be believed. Even then, if you're anything like me, you'll have a hard time convincing yourself that what you saw was real. It genuinely is too good to be true, a natural beauty so unnaturally beautiful!

Round & Around Rosario

To break up another big old bus journey to Iguazu, we stopped off for two nights in Rosario. Though we gave ourselves less than forty-eight hours to explore this city, I feel as though we got to know the area pretty well. This is mainly due to the fact that we spent approximately two hours the first morning circling the same six blocks over and over, in search of a bus ticket!

The plan was to catch the bus to the beach but it was far easier said than done. Tickets cost less than five pesos (the equivalent of about thirty pence) but the bus drivers only accept coins on board and Argentinian coins are extremely hard to come by. As a result, nobody is ever keen to dish them out and so there's no hope of changing up notes in a shop or bank. Your other option is to add money to an Oyster-like bus card so we borrowed one from the hostel and tried to top that up. Alas, that proved impossible too! We asked in dozens of newsagents but they all denied offering this service, instead pointing us in the direction of a different shop. Hope dwindled each time we heard the Spanish words for 'Try the next one, two blocks on the right...'

This bizarre system reminds me of the black market money exchange in Argentina which I don't believe I've mentioned yet. The Argentinian peso is incredibly unstable and so everyone is desperate to get their hands on American dollars. Therefore, the locals on the black market are willing to pay far more for dollars than they're actually worth. For example, if we were to exchange one hundred dollars at an official bank we'd have received roughly eight hundred pesos. On the black market, we made over one thousand! 

Initially we were apprehensive because it is of course illegal. However, the people offering the exchange on the streets display no caution whatsoever, shouting 'cambio, cambio' loudly so that everyone can hear. Often when you agree to a deal, they lead you into an official bank to make the exchange anyway! It's so strange and yet so accepted.

Anyway, tangent aside, we eventually gave up and traipsed back to the hostel. We were quite settled on the idea of finding something local to do but the owner, who looked uncannily like Alan from the Hangover, insisted we must find a way to the beach. He grabbed his keys, abandoned his desk and marched us outside: 'Follow Juan. I am Juan.' 

About fifteen blocks later we finally found success! I'd love to say that the beach was worth all this trouble but it hardly compared to those we've seen elsewhere on our travels. The ice-cream, on the other hand, was second to none! We can always count on ice-cream to save the day. 

Juan had told us that Rosario is in fact famous for being the ice-cream capital of Argentina and we soon discovered why. After the first, we took it upon ourselves to try out every ice-cream parlour we came across with the perfect excuse that we were just being cultural! 

Pascuas in Patagonia

 Eighteen hours is a long time to spend on a bus but the promise of free chocolate at the other end made the journey considerably less painful. Bariloche in Patagonia is renowned for its chocolatiers and with the Easter weekend just around the corner it felt like the perfect place to spend the holiday.

And right we were! The moment we stepped down from that stifling bus, the fresh alpine air filled our lungs, carrying with it the faint scent of mouth-watering chocolates. Following our noses, we found the town centre where chocolate shops line every street and chocolate cafés fill every corner. Each one is a wonderland in its own right, an Aladdin's cave of edible treasures; chocolate truffles, chocolate fountains, chocolate flakes and chocolate cakes! Some are wrapped up like tiny gifts in gold and silver, whilst others are left bare to entice your tastebuds. The best part is that there are so many shops competing for your custom that they all serve free samples to capture your interests. Needless to say, they captured ours very well.

Although it was Easter, we all agreed that Bariloche has a Christmassy feel about it. The wooden huts and log cabins look as though they've been plucked straight out of Switzerland and the snow-capped mountains would make an ideal setting for a Santa's grotto. 

However, as if to make a point that this weekend was in fact all about Easter, the world's largest chocolate egg stood proudly in the main square. At twenty-seven feet high it was absolutely ginormous. The morning of Easter Sunday, we joined a crowd of Argentinians to watch the egg be cracked open. It was a big event with film crews and radio presenters gathered around and suspense built as somebody babbled in Spanish over a loudspeaker for almost an hour. We understood next to nothing but the countdown was unmistakable: 'Cinco, cuatro, tres, dos, uno!' Trumpets sounded, balloons were released and the first square of chocolate egg smashed to the ground. As more and more pieces fell they revealed the smiling faces of little men, demolishing the egg from the inside outwards. 

Everyone was eager to grab a slab of the famous egg but we didn't fancy our chances against the hundreds of Argentinians, even if over half of them were children. Instead, we climbed the big hill back up to our hostel where we had our own secret stash of chocolates waiting for us. Like the big kids that we are we devised an Easter egg hunt, hiding the chocolates around our room and writing cryptic clues which led to each one. Later in the evening we treated ourselves to an all you can eat pizza night and left the restaurant feeling about as large as that egg. 

The following day, in a minor attempt at damage control, we cycled the twenty-five kilometres around the lake. The mountainous terrain made for some pretty awesome cycling and we raced down the hills with ridiculous speed. The trouble was, we loved going downhill about as much as we hated going uphill and I guess strictly speaking, we probably only pedalled for about ten kilometres, flew down the other ten, and then pushed the bikes for the remaining five up all of the steep inclines. 

Anyway, the morning started out rather grey but the clouds soon broke away, uncovering the most beautiful views out across the mountains. In many ways it reminded me of New Zealand but less green, and more autumnal to match the season. Even the rocky mountains in the far distance looked as though they'd had bursts of red and orange paint splashed across them to make them even more picturesque. 

We stopped twice along the way; once at a small beach where we skimmed stones across the surface of the clear green water, and a second time at Hotel Llao Llao, which sits high up in the mountains, overlooking another lake. We'd hoped to be able to relax with a hot chocolate in the hotel cafe but having taken one look around the lobby of this place we realised it was unlikely we'd be able to afford even a water. In our shabby cycling gear we stuck out like sore thumbs and the look on the security guards' faces said it all: 'get on your bikes' quite literally. 

If eighteen hours on a bus was long, twenty-four hours was practically a lifetime. However, though the journey back up North held no chocolate consolation, the stunning scenery I'd seen on the cycle continued for hours and I struggled to think of anywhere else I'd rather be than sat on that bus taking it all in. On and on we travelled, passing endless lakes, each one as still and serene as the next. Like an enormous mirror, the water reflected the world so perfectly that it was entirely indistinguishable from the scene itself. I found myself tilting my head to prove this theory, losing my gaze within the light blue waters with as much ease as if I'd been staring up into the infinite skies. Even from behind the thick, flecked glass of the bus window these views were truly breathtaking and I was sad when daylight disappeared leaving only darkness behind. 

We've been in South America for just one week but already I can feel myself falling in love with our surroundings. If such beauty can be found by chance during a bus journey, I can hardly imagine the wonders we'll discover when we're truly searching.

Wine Dozy in Mendoza

With its endless rows of vineyards and world famous wines, Mendoza seemed like the only sensible place to be for Hana's birthday. Therefore, we left Santiago at midday the previous day and crossed the border into Argentina, finally arriving at our hostel late that evening after a long and windy journey through the Andes.  

Still suffering from jet lag, we were desperate for bed but Erica and I had work to do! Resources were limited but somehow we made Hana's presents presentable using maps and leaflets for wrapping paper and plaited plastic bags as ribbon. Then we blew up her balloons and hid them in a locker, deciding they'd be too much of a temptation for any drunken backpacker coming in late at night. 

The morning began as all birthdays should, by opening presents in bed and scoffing Nutella pancakes. For the rest of the day, however, we'd planned something special; a trip around the Mendoza wine region, visiting three vineyards and testing out their different wines. 

At the first we were given a tour of the winery to learn exactly how the wines are made. Our guide was very informative but he lost his trail rather too often and I couldn't help thinking he probably loved his wine a little too much. His enthusiasm bordered on insanity at times as he marched us around his factory wonderland like an Argentinian Willy Wonka, snapping his fingers and shouting 'vamos!' 

Finally we got to the part we'd really all come for; the tastings! We tried reds and whites, both unfinished and finished, swirling them around in our glasses before taking a swig. The whites were my favourite but we all found at least one red that we liked too. With so many different varieties on offer it would be difficult not to and we found the more we drank, the better it tasted! 

The second bodega was just eight kilometres away, a great distance to cycle even after eight tastings of wine. Though it was another scorching hot day it was really quite pleasant as our path was shaded by the tall trees planted either side. By the time we arrived we'd worked up quite an appetite so we were delighted to find the tables laid out in the garden waiting for us. We dined alfresco with a large platter of bread, cheese and hams, and an accompanying glass of red wine on the side. For the hour that followed we sunbathed out on the lawn, allowing our lunch to go down whilst we waited for the next tour to begin. 

In the second winery we were led down cold, underground cellars which they use to store wine rather than artificial rooms which imitate these conditions. Aside from that it appeared to be very similar to the first which was rather fortunate as I couldn't make out a single word our guide was sayIng. Though she was arguably more sober than our previous Willy Wonka guide, by this point we most certainly were not and so found her accent almost impossible to decipher. Nevertheless, the wine at the tastings spoke for itself and we ended up buying a bottle of our favourite rose to continue the celebrations later on.

Not trusting ourselves to then get back onto bicycles, we joined the rest of our group on a minibus to the third and final winery of the day. Again it was pretty similar to the other two except that the wine produced there is used for religious ceremonies and so it contains more alcohol than most because it's only supposed to be consumed in small sips. However, we've been taught that to truly taste a wine you must take a large gulp at the very least and so we ended the day downing the strongest wines of all. 

Our first hangover hit around seven o'clock. Fortunately, as South Americans share the Spanish tradition of eating late, we managed to squeeze in a quick power nap before dinner. The restaurant was amazing, an authentic Argentinian place recommended by our tour guide from earlier on. We each ordered a humongous steak and then helped Hana polish off her birthday mousse (the next best thing when there's no cake on the menu.)

The next day none of us were able to face any more wineries so we decided instead to see what else Mendoza had to offer. It's a beautiful town with a good scattering of cafés and restaurants but we bought food from the local supermarket instead and took a picnic along to the Square. We thought we'd be safe being miles from the vineyards but even there, wine was difficult to escape! Free tastings were being held in the streets and even the fountains had been tinted pink to look like a giant pool of inviting red.

 The majority of the afternoon was spent in the sunshine at Mendoza Park which would have felt like a lazy day had it not been for the fact that we utilised that time to teach ourselves some Spanish. We've been using phrase books and dictionaries to set each other small tests in the hope that we'll learn enough to get by in these next few months.

It's difficult, but having spent the last three days in Mendoza I now at least have one phrase ingrained into my memory; 'otro vino, por favore!' And that will do for now.